


Past and Future

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Hustle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1625786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man from Danny's past returns to drag up memories he thought he'd forgotten. Danny/Mickey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past and Future

**Author's Note:**

> Written for mooyoo

 

 

Mickey sat in one of the booths, going through a newspaper with a pen and notepad. His lip just curled slightly, as if something he read amused him. It made him look smug. Arrogant. He sometimes looked at Danny like that, his eyes expressionless and face blank, all apart from that little smirk. It made Danny want to kick him. Or punch him, if that seemed a bit less childish.

Something slapped the bar in front of him.

"Danny!" Eddie was staring at him, looking more than a little annoyed, his palm now flat on the bar beside Danny's arm. "Are you even awake?"

"Yes." And he hadn't been staring at Mickey. Hadn't, hadn't, hadn't. Because that would be weird. "I wasn't looking at Mickey."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, and Danny realised it had probably been a mistake to say that last bit out loud. "He's annoying me, alright?"

Eddie looked across the room, to where Mickey was still reading the newspaper. Writing something in it, now. "Right. Well, if you can tear yourself away, there's something I forgot to tell you earlier."

There was nothing to tear himself away from. "What?"

"Some bloke popped by, looking for you. Said his name was Duncan."  
Duncan.

For a moment, Danny thought he'd heard wrong. Then realised he hadn't. But it still didn't mean Eddie was referring to that Duncan. Hundreds of Duncans out there, after all. And he might have just got the name wrong."Duncan? Are you sure?"

"Yes! This morning, there was a poker meeting, he arrived in the middle of it. It's why I forgot him till now. But he said not to worry, he'd come by later. Not sure when he meant, but he sounded quite eager."

"You didn't...you didn't tell him I came here, right? I mean, you pretended you didn't know me, yeah?"

By now, Eddie had learned not to be curious. He just nodded. "Yeah, of course. But he seemed to know. And he said you'd remember him, said you knew each other from the past."

That was one way of putting it, Danny supposed. A way that at least wouldn't arouse too many awkward questions. "Right. Um, have you mentioned this to anyone else?"

"I only remembered just now."

"Right. Well, keep it quiet, alright?"

Eddie glanced over at Mickey, and Danny could almost see what he was thinking. He almost regretted asking. If he hadn't, Eddie might just have forgotten, assuming it wasn't important. Now, he'd wonder if it was something Mickey should know.

Not that it was. Just...some things Danny wanted to keep to himself.

"Sure," said Eddie, at last. "You owe me though, yeah?"

Easily solved. "How about, sometime soon, I come by and teach you a few grifter tricks. You're always saying you want to learn. The others won't be able to con you so easily."

"The others! You're the worst..."

"Well, if you keep your mouth shut, I'll teach you how to avoid it. And now, if you don't mind, there's somewhere I need to be."

*

He popped out two nights later, heading to the newsagents, when Duncan appeared. Smoking a fag, leaning against the dark window of a closed betting shop. Danny felt a moment of annoyance when he realised he'd forgotten how much taller than him Duncan was: only a couple of inches, but Duncan had a knack of making them big inches.

He'd lost weight, though. Still bulky enough, but leaner than before.  
"I was wondering when I'd see you."

Duncan didn't smile, took another draw on his fag, blew the smoke out in Danny's general direction. "You got my message then?"

"Yeah."

"Lying cunt swore he'd never heard of you."

"Maybe he was trying to do me a favour." It would be just like Duncan to go after Eddie for that. Just the kind of petty thing the older man would do. "What d'you want, anyway?"

"What if I just wanted to see you? Catch up on old times?"

"Well, sadly I've got a lot on my plate at the moment, so if you don't mind..." Easiest just to walk on by, he thought, just pretend that Duncan couldn't affect him anymore. That this was just a chance meeting that didn't matter.

Duncan, of course, waited until Danny had drawn level with him before saying, "I suppose fucking Mickey Bricks is an improvement on fucking me."

The sensible thing to do was still to walk away, but Danny had never been much good at sensible. Despite the voice in his head telling him it didn't matter what Duncan thought, really didn't, he snapped, "I am not sleeping with Mickey, alright? So why don't you just fuck off elsewhere. No one will miss you."

He could feel his hands shaking, and shoved them in his jacket pockets. Just being this close to Duncan...it brought back memories he'd rather forget. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "Really?"

"I need a partner. You know me, I don't like working alone. And you owe me, Danny, whether you like it or not. I taught you - "

"Mickey's taught me more in a day than you did in two years! I don't owe you anything."

"You sure you're not fucking him?"

Back to that. Why was Danny not surprised? "Mickey wouldn't even want me," he said, then regretted it. He knew what it would make Duncan think. "I can hardly stand the bloke either. You're deluded."

"So you'll have no problems leaving him, then?" Duncan stepped forwards as he said it, till Danny could feel his breath brushing across Danny's forehead, the heat of his body warming Danny's front. Close enough that Danny's nose burned from the cigarette smoke, but he didn't want to step back. That would be admitting weakness.

"Fuck off," he said, nice and clearly so there was no chance of Duncan misunderstanding.

He still heard Duncan laughing as he walked away.

*

He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, a mattress spring digging into his back. He shifted, but that just made it dig into an even more sensitive bit of his back. He needed a new bed. Something to get after the next con.

If there was one, anyway.

Normally, any troubles sleeping could be fixed with a quick wank - only if he had the room to himself, of course, not if he had to share it. That would just be wrong. But tonight, despite the fact that he was alone, despite the fact that it was approaching two in the morning, despite the fact that he'd even tried a bit of porn - it didn't make a difference.   
He knew why. Difficult to think about tits and pussy when you can't get a rather different set of equipment out of your mind.

Duncan. He shivered, just thinking about it, then hated himself for the reaction. He hadn't enjoyed it. He'd hated it, having Duncan's sweaty body hanging over him, pushing him down into the bed. Large hands running down his sides, yanking his legs apart. Had hurt like hell, until Danny had learned how to deal with it, and he'd done that without Duncan's help.

Sometimes, he thought Duncan had liked it hurting him. Not that the other man had ever said so; probably knew that there was only so far Danny would go. As long as they both pretended Danny didn't care, then it was okay. Danny could cope. He could even enjoy it, a little, whenever Duncan could be bothered to remember sex involved two people.

Or maybe that had just been another twisted way of hurting Danny. He'd never been sure how much subtlety Duncan was capable of.

He'd been rubbing his hand over his stomach, and felt vaguely sick to realise he wanted to slide it down and over his cock. Not thinking about Duncan, exactly. Just some generic bloke fucking him. Not kissing him, that would be gay. Just sex, pure and simple.

Duncan's face kept sliding into his mind. The first time, when Danny hadn't really had a clue, had been so caught up in the idea of learning from one of the best grifters around that he'd been willing to do anything.

He let go of himself in frustration, arousal now burning through him, but...he couldn't wank off thinking about Duncan. That was too twisted. Besides, it wouldn't work. He'd probably end up wanting to cut his dick off.

Generic black guy then, with muscles, a bald scalp replaced Duncan's shaggy mop. Not even his mind could twist that into thinking about Duncan. Was too different, and he moved his hand a little faster, his breath coming quicker, closing his eyes. Letting himself drift off into the fantasy, nothing to distract him now. Nothing except...

Mickey.

Mickey fucking him, Mickey leaning over him, Mickey...

It only took another two seconds before he came.

*

He didn't see Duncan the day after, nor the day after that. On the third day, an envelope arrived addressed to him. Inside, a photograph, taken when he'd been about nineteen. From when he'd known Duncan. It was fairly innocent, just Danny sitting on a sofa, looking up at the camera, but Danny still felt a little creeped out that Duncan had kept it.

His mobile rang, that afternoon, with an unknown number. Of course, it wouldn't be Duncan - how would he have got Danny's phone number? - but he decided not to answer it. Just in case.

*

Trying to plan their latest con. Mickey told him off for being distracted.

Then Stacie mentioned if anyone else had noticed a man hanging around outside the hotel. Ash agreed he'd keep an eye on it, in case it was an undercover copper. And then asked Danny what was wrong.

Albie just watched him.

Danny felt like he was disintegrating, slowly crumbling into something less than what he was. What he thought he was, anyway, what he tried to be. He imagined what it would be like to go back with Duncan. Imagined the adrenaline-filled days, flying without a plan but just the expectation that things would work out okay, because they always did. And the nights, full of fear and hurt and shame and arousal.

Danny told himself it didn't matter. He'd put all of this behind him. He'd grown up now. And it didn't matter how many times Ash asked, there was nothing wrong. Nothing he couldn't handle.

He wished Mickey would stop watching him. That was getting annoying. He'd tried snapping at the other man, but as usual had been ignored. And then tried insinuating that Mickey was watching him for less than pure reasons, only to remember and trail off half way through.

Stupid. So, so stupid that one conversation could reduce him to this.

*

Danny almost felt relieved when he saw Duncan standing outside Eddie's, leaning against the wall and watching the cars pass. Almost. His breath still caught in his throat, and the urge to turn around and walk away was strong.

Made himself keep going. He could just imagine Duncan's face if the other man thought Danny was scared.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, obviously." Waiting a while, by the looks of him: huddled down into a thin denim jacket, cheeks red from the cold. Danny wondered where he was sleeping, if he'd found anyone to get money off.

Reminded himself he shouldn't care.

"I don't want to talk to you, alright? Leave me alone."

"Come on, Danny." Like Danny hadn't even spoken. "I can guess what working with Mickey must be like, him telling you what to do all the time. You hate that, don't you?"

Yes. But there was a reason for it, even if Danny would never admit that Mickey knew more than him out loud. "He is the leader."

"We'd be partners, a team. And money splits better between two than five." Duncan leaned forwards slightly, as if willing Danny to agree. "You wouldn't even be a grifter if not for me. You'd just be some petty criminal."

"Yeah, whatever." Didn't walk on past him, though. "Look, I'm not interested. Go and find someone else, because there's not a chance in hell that I'll leave the crew to come and work with you."

The anger that flashed across Duncan's face was fierce enough to make Danny step back. "You arrogant little shit. You owe me. Look at you, acting like you're somehow better than me. Like you're worth something. I don't care what crew you've been with. I don't care if you've been working with the fucking Pope! I want you back, Danny. I want us working together again."

He'd always been like that, anger coming suddenly. "I don't want to work with you."

"Why not?" He smiled, more a twist of the mouth than an expression of happiness. "I seem to remember you enjoying it. I remember - "

"Shut up."

"I remember lots. I worried you might have lost all your looks, Danny, but you're still pretty, aren't you? I remember what you felt like - "  
"Shut up! Look, you fucking - "

"I bet you'd still be a hot fuck, wouldn't - "

"Will you just shut the fuck up?" Danny only realised he was practically screaming when he noticed people across the turning to stare. He clenched his hands into fists, nails sliding over the sweat on his palms. Realised Duncan looked slightly blurry, which must just have been too much smog in the air or something. "I don't..." He paused, unable to think of any denial strong enough to convey what he felt. "You fucking cunt. I wish I could fucking hit you, you - "

"What's going on here?"

Duncan was already looking over Danny's shoulder, and Danny really should have noticed that and stopped talking. Mickey - because it would be Mickey, the last person Danny would have chosen to interrupt - walked around to stand beside Danny. He didn't look at Duncan at first, dismissing him in that way he had. He looked at Danny instead, raising one hand to touch Danny's shoulder, his dark eyes concerned. Danny couldn't meet them.

"Are you alright, Danny?"

Danny considered not answering, then considered what Duncan might say to fill in the gap. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Mickey being Mickey, he sounded more like he was scolding Danny for being too thick to understand that he wasn't fine than anything else. "I take it you know why Duncan Robertson has been spending so much time outside our hotel?"

Yes. "No." He didn't even feel surprised Mickey knew Duncan's name.

"Right. Well," he said, turning to Duncan, "Perhaps you could explain yourself. You see, I don't like it when members of my crew are bothered by people who should know better."

Danny thought that, if they stood back to back, Duncan would probably be taller than Mickey. So how Mickey seemed to be looming like that, he had no idea.

"We're just catching up, that's all." Duncan practically squirmed under Mickey's gaze. Danny felt a brief thrill. "Me and Danny, we go way back. Knew him when he was a kid."

"Uh-huh." Mickey didn't sound convinced. Probably wasn't difficult for him to work out that wasn't completely accurate, given what Danny had been shouting when he'd walked up. "I think you should leave."

Duncan's eyes flicked to Danny. He didn't look so threatening anymore, which Danny supposed was slightly humiliating: that Mickey had been able to deal with this so easily. "Why should I? Maybe Danny's happy for you to order him around, but I'm - "

Mickey cut him off. "It would be unfortunate," he said, "If the police were informed about who you've been staying with. I believe consorting with known criminals is a violation of your parole, isn't it?"

Duncan narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't dare. If word got out you'd snitched on me, you'd never be trusted again."

"Do you think I'd be stupid enough to let it be connected to me? To any of us? And, believe me, you would prefer jail to any of the alternatives." For a moment, the hand resting on Danny's shoulder tightened. Danny flinched, having almost forgotten it was there. The movement drew Duncan's eyes.

"No loss," he said, voice filled with false bravado and spite. "I'll find someone else." He flung his last words at Danny: "You were never that good a fuck anyway."

It took Danny a few seconds to understand he'd said that, in front of Mickey, and that time was all Duncan needed to get far enough away that hitting him was no longer an immediate option. Still definitely an option, however, and it really wouldn't take much effort to run after him and just pound his fucking face in.

Except Mickey had an arm around his shoulders, and was steering him away from Eddie's and in the direction of the hotel . "Where are we going?" asked Danny, feeling slightly high. Because, really, did it matter? If they were going back to the hotel, it was probably only for Mickey to tell him to pack his things.

"We need to talk," said Mickey, which pretty much confirmed it.

"He...Duncan...he'll come back. He was angry, he hates giving up on things." The whole reason he'd been caught in the first place.

"Ash will take care of him. That was just a warning. If he'd left quietly, we wouldn't have done anything. But don't worry. He'll be leaving London soon."

Mysterious as always. Danny wondered if there was any point in asking how much Mickey knew, or what `taking care of' meant.

He figured it probably didn't really matter.

*

They went into Mickey's room, despite the place being empty. There was noise from the floor below them, but the suite they'd chosen was silent. The others were probably out, searching for marks, meeting contacts.

Or, in Ash's case, taking care of Duncan.

But they could come back, and Mickey seemed to want the privacy. Danny didn't protest.

"So," said Mickey, as soon as he'd locked the door. "Tell me."

Danny wandered over to look out the window.

Across the room, Mickey sighed, and walked over. He came to a stop behind Danny, close enough that Danny felt slightly trapped. Which was probably the idea. "Tell me," Mickey repeated.

"Tell you what? The meaning of life?" It didn't sound as flippant as he'd meant it to.

Mickey sighed again, which Danny was going to get sick of very soon. "About Duncan. Tell me how you met, what your relationship was..."

Throwing it in second, like it was an afterthought rather than the thing he was dying to know.

Danny might be an idiot, but even he could notice that. "There's nothing to tell."

"I think there's quite a lot to tell." So calm, as always.

It made Danny snap.

He turned, shoving Mickey away from him with enough force that the other man stumbled back into the bed. He followed, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Is this just all some game for you, huh? Why don't you just get it over with, yeah, and tell me I'm out. Because I'm not really in the mood to start pouring everything out to...to...to you."

Mickey looked surprised. He sat on the bed, holding his hands up in a position that would have looked like surrender, if Danny hadn't known better. Mickey didn't surrender, ever. "Tell you you're out?" Mickey asked. "What are you talking about?"

He did sound genuinely puzzled. "Well, I mean, you're kicking me out," said Danny. Mickey didn't look any less confused. "Aren't you?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well, what...what Duncan said." Danny paused, beginning to realise that maybe, just maybe, Mickey wasn't playing with him. "You mean, you're not going to make me leave?"

"Of course not."

"But don't you care what Duncan said?"

Mickey didn't pretend he didn't know what Danny was talking about. He shrugged, lowering his hands to his lap. "I do care, but not for the reasons you think."

One day, Mickey would tell him something that didn't sound like a bloody riddle. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm not going to ask you to leave just because you used to sleep with Duncan Robertson. If you were still sleeping with him, on the other hand..."

"No! God, no. I hated it."

Mickey was looking at him strangely. Which he did quite often, but it still made Danny uncomfortable. "Did he know that?"

"Well..." What sort of question was that? "Yeah. I think. I mean, we didn't exactly sit down and talk about it. But it's not like it mattered. He made it pretty clear that, you know. He'd just chuck me out on the streets otherwise."

Still that look. But then Mickey patted the bed besides him, and Danny went cautiously to sit down. "You did what you had to," Mickey told him. "It's in the past now."

Well, Danny knew that. "Yeah." But, the voice in his head pointed out, Mickey didn't know. Not really. He didn't know how thinking about it could still make Danny's skin crawl, could still make sweat spring out across his back. In the past, but impossible for Danny to forget, even if recently he thought he'd managed.

Until Duncan had shown up to ruin that happy delusion.

"I do care about you," Mickey told him. Danny felt his insides twist with confusion and something else, but Mickey's eyes looked completely serious. "I care a lot." One of his hand had been resting on Danny's shoulder, and Danny couldn't remember how it got there but now it stroked down, over his back. Danny felt himself tense under the touch.

Mickey withdrew his hand, then wrapped his arm more securely around Danny's shoulders. He used it to drag Danny into a rough hug, and Danny felt a kiss brush against his hair. "Mickey, what - "

"Never mind," said Mickey. When Danny didn't respond, Mickey leaned over again, and pressed another kiss to his forehead. Danny started to wonder if perhaps he'd been drinking. Mickey just smiled. "I promise I'll tell you one day," he said, "Just not today."

*

Danny stood in the airport on his own, staring up at where the arrivals board was announcing that the plane from Sydney had landed.  
It was, he decided, pathetic. Mickey was away for almost a year, and Danny was the only one who could be bothered to come and meet him? Alright, so the flight was getting in at a stupid time, and yes, he supposed Stacey's mum being ill gave her quite a good excuse, but what about the others?

Mickey had better realise things had changed, he decided, turning away from the giant screens and heading towards the arrivals gate. Danny had been leader for the past year, and he'd done alright at it. Yes, there had been a few hiccups, but overall it had gone well.

Joint leaders, Danny decided. It would be nice to have Mickey back, with his immaculate plans and preparations for every possible outcome.

Together, they could make a good team.

Passengers started flooding out, all grumpy and rumpled after the long flight. The few children looked especially unhappy, red-cheeked and miserable from tiredness. One of them was crying, which made Danny wince. At least Mickey had been flying business class, and wouldn't have had to put up with that for the entire flight.

And then, there he was, dragging a black case behind him and looking as smooth as every. But when he saw Danny he grinned, sudden and impulsive, and ran the last few steps to hit Danny at force. Which Danny didn't really mind, given that it ended with him being crushed against Mickey's chest in a hug so tight it would leave bruises. "Alright, alright!" He yelled, though given that his face was pressed against Mickey's neck it came out somewhat muffled. "I do need to breath, you know."

Mickey released him just enough that that was possible, grinning down at him unrepentantly. "I didn't expect anyone here to meet me."

"Don't be stupid. Of course I came." He was going to add a complaint about the others not coming, but something stopped him.

"You've been leading the team while I've been gone?" asked Mickey, dark eyes studying Danny intently.

"Yeah." And he did mean to say about them being joint leaders in future, but what came out was, "But now you're back...you're the leader again. I don't want to take that away from you."

"Don't be silly. Who says only one of us has to lead?"

Certainly not Danny.

He opened his mouth to say something else, something pointless, but Mickey stopped him with a quick shake of the head. "You've changed," he said, then cut Danny off when he tried to protest. "In a good way. You've grown. And there's been something I've wanted to tell you."

"What?" Danny began to say, only to be cut off once more.

This time, by Mickey's hand cupping the back of his head, and Mickey's lips on his.

And maybe an airport wasn't the best of places to share a first kiss, but to Danny? It felt pretty damn good.

 

 

 


End file.
